Mr. Was by Pete Hautman Read Free Book Online

name?”
    He said something over his shoulder. It sounded like “Bud.”
    I caught up to him. “You say Bud?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “Scud. They call me Scud.”
    â€œYou mean like the missile? Like they were shooting off in Iraq?”
    He said, “Rack? What rack?”
    I said, “What’re you, a dummy?”
    He turned toward me, his eyes narrow and his lips pulled back against his teeth. I thought he was going to punch me. We glared at each other for about three seconds. Suddenly his face relaxed and his mouth turned up into a smile.
    â€œMaybe we’re both dummies,” he said. “What do you say we call it square?”
    I nodded and unclenched my fists.
    A new voice came out of the night. “Hey, come on, aren’t you guys gonna have a fight? Come on, Scuddy-poo. He don’t look so big.”
    I made out the shape of someone sitting on a fence rail, a few yards off the road.
    Scud said, “We were just fooling around, Andie. And don’t call me that.”
    Andie hopped off the rail and walked toward us. Dressed like Scud in overalls and flannels, Andie had a long, lanky body, narrow wrists, and an impish, freckled face. It took me a few seconds to figure out that Andie was a girl.
    She said, “What’s that he’s wearin’, Scud-doodle? What kind of shoes are those? They’re really
strange!”
    Scud hadn’t paid much attention to my clothes before, but now he frowned at my Nikes.
    â€œHe’s got writing all over his shirt,” she said. “What’s ’Bears’?”
    I’d had about enough. I said, “That’s a pretty stupid question.”
    I never saw it coming. Who’d’ve thought a girl could move so fast? Her sharp fist caught me right in the belly. I staggered back, bent double, trying to catch my breath.
    Scud laughed. “Hey, leave him alone, Andie. He don’t have any other stuff. He’s a runaway. Prob’ly stole off somebody’s clothesline. C’mon, let’s go.”
    â€œJust a second,” Andie said. “You okay, Jack-o?”
    â€œMy name’s Jack,” I gasped.
    She put a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry I walloped you. You shouldn’t a called me stupid.”
    I stood up straight and looked into her face. I couldn’t see what color her eyes were in the moonlight, but they were big and they were looking right at me.
    â€œIt’s okay,” I said. I still couldn’t believe that this girl had just knocked the wind out of me.
    â€œYou want to come with us?”
    I nodded.
    About half a mile up the road, the woods opened into a field on the right side. I saw a small, run-down house. A dozen or so small apple trees grew in rows near the back.
    Scud said in a low voice, “Keep an eye out, Jack. If he hears us he’ll let that dog of his out on us.”
    â€œDog?” I didn’t like strange dogs. “What sort of dog?”
    â€œBig,” said Scud. “Like a horse.”
    We eased our way across the ditch and into the orchard. The tree limbs sagged with apples. Scud started right in pulling them off and stuffing them into his shirt. Andie did the same. I grabbed one apple in each hand. My T-shirt wasn’t tucked in, so I couldn’t put the apples inside it. How many apples were we supposed to be stealing? I turned to ask Scud when suddenly he wound up and hurled an apple at the side of the house. It hit with a bang, exploding into apple bits.
    Andie let out a yelp and took off running. Scud laughed and threw another apple. I heard a door open and a howl that turned my insides into jelly. Now Scud was running, too. A black shape—big, like Scud said—rounded the corner of the house with another howl. I took off, bounding across the ditch and into the woods, branches slapping across my face, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore. Finally